


Faith Has Its Rewards

by shadowsfan



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bittersweet, M/M, Sex In A Cave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-15 02:34:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7202762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowsfan/pseuds/shadowsfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thoros doesn't know why R'hllor has given him this gift.  Sometimes he thinks it's a curse.  But when he's given more time with Beric, he thanks R'hllor for his blessings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Faith Has Its Rewards

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vana/gifts).



> This was written some time ago for [Vana](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Vana/works) and never posted. Since R'hllor has blessed us with another glimpse of Thoros and Beric this week on the show, I thought now would be a good time to post. I hope you enjoy!

 

“Tell us another tale about that whore in King’s Landing!”  Anguy roared, filling Thoros’ cup to the brim with sour red.

Thoros laughed, taking a large swallow and wiping the excess that dribbled down his chin on the sleeve of his robe.   

“I’ve got a better one.  There was a red priestess I knew once─“  

Thoros’ gaze was diverted by movement in a dark.   A shadow was visible in one of the cave’s recesses, illuminated briefly by the flickering firelight.  

“Another time.”   

The grin fell from Thoros’ lips and he stumbled away, grabbing a torch with his free hand.  He followed the shadow, the loud complaints of his comrades fading as he drew farther into the tunnel which led deep into the mountain.

Startled by the sound of a boot scrape, he turned to find his quarry, Lord Beric, sitting on a boulder made smooth by the endless trickle of water through the cavern walls.  Though he was hidden in shadow, his pale complexion shimmered like a ghost in moonlight.  There was an ethereal beauty about him that was not of this world.  Thoros wondered, not for the first time, if Beric was truly alive.  Thoros brought the torch closer.

“Why are you alone in the cold?  Come join us near the fire.”

“The men deserve to enjoy themselves.  They look at me and think of death.”  His smile was unsettling, like the grin of a skull.  “Besides, I don’t feel the cold anymore.  You were enjoying yourself, why did you leave?”  

Thoros took another long swallow of wine and moved closer still, allowing his empty cup to drop from his hand.  The strong drink had lowered his inhibitions and heightened his desire.  They hadn’t been alone together in a many weeks.  

“You know why.  Or maybe you’ve forgotten.  Dying for your honor is not without cost.”   

Thoughts sloshed about in Thoros’ drunken mind like water in a pail, but occasionally one rose to the surface and became clear.   His cheeks flushed with heat born more of frustration than of wine.  

“Soon there will come a day when you won’t remember anything, and your honor will be all that’s left of you.”

“I remember well enough.  Some moments are clearer than others.”  

The growl in his voice had Thoros hard even before Beric laid the torch aside and pressed him back against the cold stone.  

“Are you angry with me, my Red Priest?  Because that would pain me more than the cold.”

Beric grabbed fistfulls of Thoros’ robe and gathered it up to his waist.

“I’m filthy as a beast,”  Thoros muttered, his head spinning.  It was true he hadn’t bathed in days.   _ Had Beric asked a question?  _

“You could smell like a rose and it wouldn’t matter.  If you weren’t rank I wouldn’t smell you at all.  I prefer you this way.”

Beric’s kiss was crushing and rushed ─ impatient.  Nothing like the old days before Mummers Ford, when they used to lay together in the darkness, exploring and teasing each other relentlessly, forcing the passion to build until their inevitable coupling was as glorious as the sunrise.  Tonight it was as if Beric wanted to get it over with quickly.

Thoros wrenched his head away, breaking the kiss.  “If you can’t feel, why do you bother? Does the act even bring you pleasure?”

“Are you afraid I don’t want you?”  Beric’s dry laugh lacked humor but Thoros detected a spark within his one good eye.  Unlacing his breeches revealed proof enough of his desire.   “It’s true I don’t respond as quickly as I did when I was young ─ when  _ we _ were young.” 

Beric positioned himself between Thoros’ legs, and in the dim light Thoros saw for just an instant the magnificent young lord that fought beside him on Pyke.  The image blurred and he blinked in confusion.  

“There are many ways to experience pleasure.  One doesn’t need to sing to enjoy a beautiful song.”  

Long fingers traced the outline of Thoros’ stiff cock and a moan bubbled up from deep in his throat.  He attempted to squirm away, still suspicious that Beric was merely humoring him.   But The Lightning Lord held him fast.  

“I feel  _ your _ pleasure, Thoros.  I taste the sweetness of the wine on your tongue.  I hear the sound of joy in your laughter.  I see the heat in your eyes when I fuck you.”  

His cool lips against Thoros’ hot skin made him shiver.  

“You make this life bearable.  You are the reason I come back.”

“The Lord of Light is the reason!”  

Thoros’ heart began to pound furiously in his chest in a moment of panic.  Beric should not tempt God or he might truly be lost the next time.  Was this a test of faith?

“I am merely R’hllor’s chosen instrument,” he managed to gasp.  Beric’s hand between his legs was moving now, gripping Thoros so tightly that he was no longer trying to escape and instead arching his back like a cat demanding to be petted.

“But why? For what purpose?”  

_ To torment me?  _ Thoros realized the answer that sprang to mind was only partly a jest.  To Thoros, Beric’s existence was both R’hllor’s greatest gift and greatest punishment.  Each death could be Beric’s last.  Each rebirth stripped away some little bit of his humanity until soon there would be nothing left of  _ his _ Beric.  How much longer did they have?  It was the uncertainty of it all that Thoros found so cruel.   

On the other hand, could any man know the hour of his death?  Could any man know R’hllor’s intent?  Thoros had his faith to sustain him.  R’hllor provided for the brotherhood ─ food, shelter, drink, fellowship ─ the necessities of life.  R’hllor had led them here to this place at this moment and Beric felt so solid and strong pressed against him that Thoros started to forget about everything but the fire lighting the darkness, the flames licking between his thighs.

“To pleasure me!”  Thoros sighed, wrapping his legs tightly around Beric’s waist.  He giggled with delight as Beric’s hands caressed the backs of his thighs and spread him wide.  R’hllor had cleared his mind and brought peace to his soul.

“That is your answer?  R’hllor brought me back from the dead to fuck you?”  Beric’s chuckle choked off abruptly as he entered Thoros with a forceful push.

Thoros couldn’t reply.  He’d lost the power of speech entirely.   The only sound he emitted was a repetitive guttural tone not unlike a chant that echoed off the stone walls and increased in volume with each rhythmic thrust of Beric’s hips .  Not that it mattered.   Nothing mattered except the blinding light and the exquisite burn that seared him from the inside out.  His vision blurred as his eyes swelled with tears, and Thoros welcomed the flames that consumed him.   He’d never felt closer to God.

  
  
  
  
  
  



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